Hidden Things
by abelina.beaumont
Summary: "What are you doing here?" Hermione Granger spun around, wand drawn, not expecting company for several more minutes. "I suspect the same as you, Malfoy. Trying to figure out what a Death Eater wants with a Vanishing Cabinet. Although, I'm guessing you already know." / Book compliant for the most part. Eventual Dramione. Rated M for violence and eventual sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

_Sixth Year_

The Room of Hidden Things gave her anxiety, it always had. She had first found the iteration of the Room of Requirement after reading a journal of one of the former Head Girls, who had left an ancient text on house elf bonding rituals on one of the many bookshelves. It took her three hours of digging to find the book, along with multiple cuts on her hands and several crashes. It only took her seconds to find what she was looking for now.

The cabinet was beautiful, really. It looked like an antique wardrobe that her grandmother had when she was young, with beautiful carvings of various flora and fauna on the drawers, and a large mirror on the front. Hermione would climb into it when she was younger and pretend she was in the world of Narnia, where magic existed and animals could speak and the great lion fought all that was evil for his people. She smiled and ran her hand along the edge. Someone would have to be an idiot to believe that this was just an ordinary wardrobe. The magic of it tingled in her fingers as they moved across the dusty mahogany.

"What are you doing here?"

Hermione Granger spun around, wand drawn, not expecting company for several more minutes. "I suspect the same as you, Malfoy. Trying to figure out what a Death Eater wants with a Vanishing Cabinet. Although, I'm guessing you already know."

Draco Malfoy, wand also drawn, looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, and a sickly pallor to his skin that could only be attributed to stress and lack of sleep. _Probably lack of proper hydration and nutrition, as well_, she thought, noting the hollowness of his cheekbones and how his normally well-tailored robes hung just a little too loosely.

"Tell me, Malfoy," she said quietly. "How long have you been working for You-Know-Who?"

He seemed quietly enraged, although he didn't show it outwardly. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I don't?" She quirked an eyebrow. "So the pureblood prince who once peacocked around the school with so much arrogance and disdain for those inferior to him has suddenly lost all pride in himself and his studies without cause?" She began to move slowly away from the cabinet, making sure to take very small steps so as not to disturb the obviously unstable young wizard. ""So your father, a convicted Death Eater who tried to poison the soul of a first year student on Voldemort's behalf, hasn't enlisted you in assisting him? You haven't been to Borgin & Burkes in Knockturn Alley to inquire about this cabinet's twin? You didn't purchase a cursed necklace that injured Katie Bell in Hogsmeade just a few weeks ago?"

He was silent, staring at her in disbelief as though she were some kind of psychic. Hermione's mouth went into a tight line and she lowered her wand, still keeping a strong grip on it.

"I had hoped Harry was wrong," she said, disappointed. "I knew that you didn't like people like me because of my heritage, but I had thought you had more honor than to stoop so low."

Draco's spine straightened impossibly. "Your heritage?" He spat. "Your filthy blood, you mean?"

"Yes," she acknowledged. "Yes, my filthy blood."

"That doesn't answer my question, mudblood," he sneered. "What are you doing here?"

Hermione looked at him for a moment, resolute and calm. "I'm here to help you."

He stared at her in shock. "Help me?" He let out a barking laugh. "I don't need help from the likes of you."

"I know you think you don't, but I'm here all the same. I have known you for almost seven years, Malfoy. I know your pride wouldn't allow you to follow a half-blooded creature who was so deranged from killing and misery that he doesn't even look human anymore unless you had to. I'm here to offer you another chance. The Order will help you. We will help your family. Keep them safe and-"

"You need to leave," he said, quietly enough that is was almost a whisper. "You need to leave and forget that you ever saw me here, that you ever saw anything. Trust me, you don't want to get involved here."

"The offer stands," she replied. "You're not irredeemable, Malfoy. You've made some hard choices. We all have, and I'm sure it's not the end of them."

"Get out, Granger," he spat. "I'm not a charity case for the Mudblood extraordinaire to swoop in and save. I know what I'm doing."

Hermione left and didn't return to the Room of Requirement again. But she watched. She watched how Malfoy hardly ate anything at all at mealtimes, how he paled whenever his huge eagle dropped a letter on his plate, how he no longer paid attention in any classes – if he even bothered to show up.

He was deteriorating.

She didn't even know why it broke her heart so much to watch. He had been nothing but nasty to her for the six years they had been in school together. He had laughed at her, called her horrid names, and made fun of her ignorance of the Wizarding World. She couldn't help but feel as though something had changed over the summer. She still carried her scars from the battle in the Department of Mysteries, and although he wasn't there, she somehow got the feeling he carried scars, as well.

He didn't call her names anymore. Honestly, since their third year at Hogwarts, he had hardly spoken to her. Their interaction in the Room of Hidden Things was the most she had heard him speak to her in as long as she could remember. She didn't like him, she was certain of that. But she didn't hate him. She could never hate someone who wasn't truly evil.

She hoped that he would accept their protection. She knew that he wouldn't.

She was walking down the hall on a late night patrol when she heard glass breaking and a scream in the boys' bathroom. Disregarding her propriety, she rushed in to make sure nothing had happened. She gasped.

Harry was standing, frozen with his wand raised, about ten feet away from a screaming Draco Malfoy, who seemed to be bleeding from huge gashes that riddled his body, seemingly unable to stop forming.

"Harry," she gasped. "What did you do?"

"I didn't mean it," Harry stuttered. "It was in the book. We were dueling, and-"

"Shut up," she glared at him. "Give me your robes."

"What?" Harry was obviously confused. _Merlin!_ she thought, _how does he manage to do anything?_

"Give me your robes!" she shouted, quickly stepping over to Draco who was thankfully going into shock. She waved her wand, sending a Patronus quickly to Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, as well as to Madame Pomfrey in the infirmary.

She cast a quick diagnostic spell that she had been practicing. Internal bleeding, lung damage, kidney damage, heart damage, intestinal damage. She ripped open Draco's shirt to see a long gash forming dangerously close to his carotid artery and cursed. Casting a spell to slow his bleeding, she took his soaked shirt and used it apply pressure while Harry was stripping his own robes off.

"Help me!" she told Harry, pointing at another nasty gash on Draco's abdomen. "Apply pressure there with your robe. He's already lost a lot of blood. I don't know how much more he can afford to lose."

"Hermione, I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't apologize to me," she snapped, moving quickly to try to make makeshift bandages where she could. "I'm not the one you nearly killed. From what I see, he'll be lucky to live with how much damage has already been done."

She cast another vitals diagnostic charm and cursed again. His heart rate was going down slowly. She only had the minor medical training she had gotten from Molly Weasley over the previous summer, in addition to what she read in books, but she had no idea how to stop the gashes from forming. They seemed to be everywhere. None of the suture charms she cast seemed to do anything to help, as the wound would only reopen when a new gash formed.

She heard the hurried footsteps of the professors coming down the hall. For the hundredth time, she marveled at the idiocy of not allowing Hogwarts faculty to Apparate on school grounds.

"Oh, Merlin!" McGonagall gasped.

"Out of the way, Potter," Hermione heard Snape growl. "Idiot boy. You, too, Miss Granger."

He muttered something under his breath, moving his hands slowly over Draco's body. Miraculously, the gashes stopped and closed, the skin knitting together as if it had never been open in the first place. Professor Snape picked him up and rushed him out of the room to the infirmary.

"Mister Potter, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall whispered, obviously still unbelieving of what she saw. "I am going to need you to follow me up to the Headmaster's office and to tell me exactly what happened here. And I mean every last detail."

Professor Dumbledore didn't seemed surprised at all by Harry's story. In fact, to Hermione's anger, he almost didn't acknowledge Harry's fault at all. Harry had detention for the rest of term for dueling, a minor charge considering there were only a few weeks left.

Hermione fumed as she walked beside her friend back to Gryffindor Tower. "I can't believe you behaved so recklessly, Harry. Performing a spell in a duel that you didn't know the outcome of is the most foolish thing you have ever done, and believe me, the list isn't small. He could have died, Harry. Died. You can't come back from that. That is irreversible. Are you even listening to me?" She stopped in the hallway, grabbing Harry's arm and turning him to face her.

"He attacked me first, Mione," he shrugged. "What was I supposed to do?"

Hermione shoved him in the chest. She had never been more angry with him that she was at his indifference. "He didn't attack you. He lashed out verbally because you found him in a vulnerable place, and _you_ attacked _him_ because you don't have any self control over your own actions. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he's not pure evil? That maybe he is a fellow wizard who is hurting and who needs our help?"

"He's not one of your charity cases, Hermione. He's a Death Eater!" Harry pulled his arm out of her grasp. "He's made his decisions."

Hermione stared at the boy who she considered to be her best friend, amazed at him. She couldn't even believe what she was hearing.

"You know, Harry," she said quietly. "He may have made his decisions in order to save himself and his family, but today you made a decision that was based purely on your ill-conceived notion of nobility and revenge. And _that_ is what the Death Eaters do."

She stomped away into her room in Gryffindor Tower and didn't speak to him again that night.

She checked on Draco in the hospital over the next few days. Madame Pomfrey seemed surprised to see her there, but allowed her to see him nonetheless.

She was sitting in a chair by his bedside when he woke up.

He squinted at her, "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," she said slowly. "I wasn't sure if you would make it."

"Well," his voice was raspy and dry. "I made it."

Hermione nodded. "I can see that."

"You tried to save me." It wasn't a question. More of an acknowledgment.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because no one deserves to suffer because of who their family is, regardless of the choices that they have made to protect them." Hermione stood, smoothing out her school robes. "I told you. I want to help."

He stared at her for a long minute. "You need to go."

"I am," she replied, holding the privacy curtain aside to leave. She paused, turning to look at him again. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. Really, I am."

He didn't say anything. He just looked at her as she left.

She didn't know what drove her to be in the Astronomy Tower that night. She just knew she had to be there. Borrowing Harry's invisibility cloak, she stepped out after curfew and climbed up the rickety wooden stairs to the top room of the Tower. The night sky was clouded, and something about the air smelled wrong.

She didn't hear the footsteps until it was almost too late. She hid in a corner behind an old stuffed armchair, the cloak hiding her from view. She didn't recognize everyone in the group of people in front of Dumbledore, but one platinum blonde head stood out to her.

_No_, she thought, pleading with whatever gods existed. _Please, don't let him do this. He won't come back from this. No one could._

She was almost thankful that Professor Snape took the duty on instead. She had to physically cover her mouth to keep from screaming when Dumbledore fell out the window.

"Someone's in here," Fenrir Greyback growled, the corners of his mouth curling upward in a cruel and sadistic smile.

"There's no one else here. Look around," Malfoy said, staring directly at the corner that Hermione was in before looking away. Did he see her? Had the cloak fallen off?

Hermione's shock to see Harry bounding up the stairs was inexplicable. At some point during his short duel with the Death Eaters, a spell had come her way, freezing her on the spot. She had no choice but to watch as Snape disarmed Harry and fled with the other Death Eaters and Draco.

The spell lifted as she heard the door shut, and she rushed over to Harry's side, checking him for wounds and drilling him for what really happened on his trip with Dumbledore.

"We have our orders," Harry whispered. "I have to find the Horcruxes. I have to defeat him." "Yes," Hermione nodded. "Yes, we do."

Reviews are always appreciated! xo


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

They had spent the summer preparing for their trip. Realizing after the incident with Malfoy how limited her healing skills actually were, Hermione had enlisted the help of Madame Pomfrey in learning more complex healing charms and diagnostics. She had brewed stocks of potions that would be necessary in the field, and gathered ingredients she might need for any emergencies, as well as supplies for their trip and food.

It broke her heart to wipe her parents' memories. She knew the likelihood that she would ever see them again, and have them know her, was very slim, but she felt she had no choice. Their lives in Australia as bakery owners Wendell and Monica Wilkins would be much safer than their lives as Robert and Georgina Granger in Britain. With Voldemort out, loud and proud, she would be enemy #2 behind Harry, the Mudblood extraordinaire, and she knew that if the Death Eaters had the opportunity to go after her family, they wouldn't hesitate to take it.

* * *

They were camping for what felt like years, but could only have been a few weeks, when she and Ron had sex for the first time. It had been awkward and fumbly, and slightly painful, but it scratched an itch that she didn't even know she had, and made her feel not quite so lonely after she had to send her parents away. It also made it all the more painful when, in a fit of Horcrux-induced rage, Ron abandoned them. He claimed that Harry and Hermione were having some kind of affair, and that he wasn't interested in being made a cuckold by his best friend.

Hermione was numb. She never thought she would be the kind of girl that would sleep with someone that she wasn't in a relationship with. And to be honest, she didn't care that Ron left. It was his own jealously and feelings of inadequacy that caused him to leave, not her. She was there for him, and she was committed to the mission. Any romantic feelings that she could have possibly had for him before this whole mess were drastically reduced, she would even go so far as to say that she had no feelings toward him whatsoever.

* * *

Getting caught by the Snatchers was an unpleasant surprise. Ron had just returned only to have Harry say the taboo-ed name, and they were immediately on the run. She had quickly sent a stinging charm, hitting Harry directly in the face. She knew that his scar would probably give them away, but she had to do something and didn't have time to disguise herself or Ron before they were taken.

Their wands were taken, and they were brought before a group of women in what looked to be a grand ballroom, before the war. Formerly beautiful crystal chandeliers and marble floors were covered in the dust and grime of Dark Magic. Now it felt more of a torture chamber. Hermione could see bloodstains speckled in the grout of the floor and what looked like human hair and scalp tissue under the legs of the chairs around the room. It made her sick.

They were forced to their knees, and waited for what felt like ages with wands digging into their necks before a beautiful blonde woman swept in the room, with Bellatrix Lestrange and Draco Malfoy on her heels. Malfoy's steps faltered as he saw them, but only briefly.

"Draco, darling," the blonde woman said sharply, glancing back at him. "Do you recognize them?"

"Well," he paused, looking at Hermione. "I can't be sure."

"What do you mean, you can't be sure?" the woman questioned, wringing her manicured hands. "You must be sure."

"They're covered in dirt and blood, Mother. Not even their own families could recognize them in that state."

"Clean them up," she ordered the guards watching them. Hermione winced as the one guarding her pulled on her hair to push her face up. He cast a cleansing spell that felt like a douse of ice water, setting her teeth on edge.

Malfoy's face was inscrutable. She stared him down. _Don't say it. Please, don't tell her._

"Is it him, Draco?" Bellatrix giggled. "Is it Harry Potter?"

"I can't tell, Aunt Bella," he said coolly.

"What about her?" Bellatrix stepped forward and grabbed Hermione by her hair, pulling her forward for his inspection. Hermione cried out at the sharp tug. "Is it the mudblood?"

Draco was silent, searching her face, and nodded shortly.

Bellatrix cackled. "Take the boys down to the cellar. I have some questions for the little miss."

* * *

Hermione had never experienced pain like that in her life. She imagined it must be what childbirth without pain relief must feel like, but instead of the pain being localized in her lower abdomen and the reward of a baby at the end, it was all over her body, and there was no end. Every wave of Bellatrix's wand elicited a unique sensation that felt like knives were driving themselves through her skin from the inside out. Hermione couldn't tell how much time had passed. She couldn't even tell if she was still screaming.

"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix screamed shrilly into her ear for the millionth time. "Where is it?! I know you stole it, you filthy little slut!"

"I didn't do anything!" Hermione sobbed. "Please, I didn't take anything!"

Her arm was burning, a pool of blood collecting on the floor below where Bellatrix had carved something into it with a knife. Hermione looked up, her chocolate eyes meeting silver. _Please. Please do something. Kill me, anything, just make it stop._

"Bella," Narcissa Malfoy spoke instead. "It's been hours, and you're getting dirty blood on my floors. It's obvious that the stupid girl doesn't know anything. All you are doing is destroying any useful information she might have for the Dark Lord at this point."

The pain stopped suddenly and Hermione gasped for breath, every nerve in her body feeling frayed and over sensitive. Bellatrix crouched down close to her face.

"Look at her, Cissy. Even with her filthy blood, she's quite the beautiful little thing. Maybe Draco can make her confess." she cackled. "Keep the dirt on his sheets instead of on your floors."

Hermione's eyes went wide, and she struggled to keep her reaction from her face. If the evil witch knew the suggestion affected her, it would only fuel the desire.

She heard a *_pop*_ from behind her, and then another, and then another, and then the room went black.

A/N: Reviews are always appreciated! xo


	3. Chapter 3

The room was still black, but she saw flashes of color as spells shot over her head. She was shivering and couldn't seem to move.

"Oh, fuck, Granger," she heard a whisper over her. "What the hell did she do?"

She was being scooped up in a pair of strong arms that smelled like parchment and cedar, and taken through the blackness to what she thought might be a greenhouse. It smelled of green, and newness, and life. The arms laid her down on something soft. A blanket, maybe? Her vision was blurry, and she was still trembling from the aftershocks of the _Cruciatus_.

"Harry?" she mumbled.

"Of course it's not Potter, you bint," a familiar voice snapped. "What the bloody hell were you doing in that forest anyway? Would've thought the brightest witch of the bloody age would be smarter than to say the Dark Lord's name not even a kilo away from the border of Malfoy property."

She blinked, vaguely making out the bright blonde head of Draco Malfoy. "Malfoy?"

"You got it," he sneered. "Just had to get yourself in the thick of it, didn't you? What were you even doing there?"

Her head hurt so badly, and she still couldn't see clearly. She stuttered,"Wh-why do you even c-c-care?"

He was silent for a moment. "I don't."

"Hermione?" she heard Harry's voice coming closer. "Oh, thank Merlin. Come on!"

"M-malfoy," she whispered. "C-c-come with us. Y-you c-can help-p."

"You need to leave, Granger," Malfoy responded. "Leave before He gets here."

"Come on, Hermione," Harry helped her stand on shaky legs. "Thanks, Malfoy."

Draco sneered and turn away. "Get her out of here, Potter."

* * *

The Golden Trio stood in the back room of Aberforth's pub, waiting. For what, Hermione wasn't exactly sure. Her stomach sank as she thought of her beloved Hogwarts overrun by evil and Dark Magic. Her wand arm still trembled on occasion, an side effect of an extended Cruciatus she was told, and the word carved in her arm was still red and sore. She hadn't tried much spell casting since her time at Malfoy Manor, but her wandless magic had improved significantly.

She never wanted to feel helpless without her wand again.

"Let's go," Harry said, standing and going into the painting. Hermione supposed she was to follow him.

The tunnel let them out somewhere in the hallways of Hogwarts. They had a single Horcrux left to find, and while Harry had thought it to be in Ravenclaw Tower, Hermione was sure it couldn't be that simple. If Voldemort had truly wanted to hide it, it wouldn't be in the obvious place. Or would it? Where do you find something that is hidden?

The Room of Hidden Things was just as she remembered it, save for the now-broken Vanishing Cabinet in the center. Harry and Ron had run off to find the Horcrux, and Hermione stood at the cabinet, running her finger along the chipped paint.

_Oh, Malfoy,_ she thought sadly. _If only you had accepted my help when you had the chance. Maybe things would be different._

"What are you doing here?" she heard barked behind her. She whipped around, wand drawn, trying to conceal her tremors. Malfoy stood in the doorway, wand drawn as well, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"What do you think, Malfoy?" she spat. "Fixing the mess that you started."

Goyle growled. "You lot started all this! Mudbloods like you don't deserve to walk the same halls as the Sacred 28!"

"Really?" She questioned angrily, the magic coming off her in colorful sparks. "Are you aware that the snake that you follow is _not _even a pureblood himself? His father was a Muggle!"

Goyle and Crabbe looked shocked, gripping their wands even tighter. Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Come off it, you two. We know our assignment."

She heard a spell shouted behind her, and a flash of light whizzed past her face as Harry and Ron flew over on brooms. Harry and Ron had found the diadem, then. Good.

Harry tossed her a broom, and swallowing any fear she had, she hopped on, rising up into the air. She smirked, and threw up a shield while casting nonverbal stunners towards the Death Eater trio. They seemed to be winning, Crabbe and Goyle slinking back toward the door, when one of the blundering idiots cast a _Fiendfyre._

"Harry! Ron!" she shouted, motioning to the cursed fire. "We need to get out! Now!"

Harry and Ron nodded, flying quickly toward the door. Looking back, she realized that Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were trapped. Cursing, she cast a Patronus to tell Harry and Ron to go back and get them.

She spun quickly, extending her hand to Malfoy.

"Hop on!" she yelled over the shriek of the Fyre.

He grabbed her outstretched hand and nestled securely behind her, his strong chest against her back and his hands on her waist. After glancing back to make sure Harry and Ron had gotten the other two Slytherins, Hermione flew as quickly as she could out of the room. Several hundred feet out of the room, she landed, letting Malfoy off the broom.

"Thanks, Granger," he said quietly.

"Just repaying a debt," she shrugged. "Don't mention it."

He nodded. "You need to leave."

"So do you."

* * *

Hermione would have never guessed in a million years that it would be Narcissa Malfoy that would save them. The Battle had been over for only a few hours, and the stench of death and Dark Magic was still hanging in the air. The remaining Death Eaters were sitting in a circle on the field, Order members surrounding them.

Hermione sat on a hill, overlooking the field where the battle had happened. Her heart ached for those that had been lost - Professor Snape, Remus Lupin, Lavender Brown. She knew the other side had losses, too. Vincent Crabbe had not made it out of the Room of Hidden Things alive, killed by his own Fiendfyre. Bellatrix Lestrange was gone, not that Hermione missed the old bat, but she was family to someone.

Everyone is family to someone.

She looked down at the group of Death Eaters below, seeking out the platinum blonde heads of the Malfoys. Narcissa Malfoy was staring at her. Hermione returned her gaze, nodding her thanks to the older woman. Narcissa nodded back in acknowledgement.

It was finally over.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

The dungeon of the Ministry of Magic was never a pleasant place to be, even if you were only a visitor. Hundreds of feet below the lowest floor of the Ministry and made to hold accused prisoners until their trial before the Wizengamot, there was stone everywhere, from the floors to the walls to the ceiling, and cell doors made of iron and infused with copper to dampen the ability of the prisoner to use his or her magic to escape.

The dungeon gave Hermione chills. Four Aurors were escorting her to cell #988, one of the smallest cells that was reserved for the most horrible and troubled of prisoners. The click of Hermione's heels against the stone floor echoed against the walls, sending a shiver up her spine, and the Aurors in front and behind her imposed a sense of claustrophobia in the already narrow walkway.

The door to cell #988 was almost entirely made of copper, interlaced with veins of silver, meant to make its occupant nearly powerless. Hermione's breath hitched as one of the Aurors opened the door, revealing a ghastly pale, dirty, and weak Draco Malfoy.

His eyes flickered up to her, widening in surprise upon recognition. "What are you doing here?" he questioned, his voice rough from what Hermione assumed to be lack of use.

Hermione took a deep breath and straightened her skirt nervously. "I'm here to ask you some preparatory questions before your trial."

He eyed her suspiciously, then nodded shortly. Hermione noticed with surprise that he was still wearing the clothes that he wore during the Final Battle, nearly three weeks prior. His hands and ankles were also bound by copper and silver infused manacles, there was a layer of dirt coating his skin, and his feet were bare, completely exposed to the cold of the dungeon.

Hermione turned to the auror leading the expedition, "Mr. Robards, will you please give the two of us some privacy?"

The older man raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You want to be alone with him? He's a Death Eater."

Hermione looked at Draco again. He was looking at the floor, quiet.

"I am confident that he will not attempt to hurt me," she said quietly. "Although I do have my wand at the ready, should it be needed."

Robards nodded his head and stepped out of her way. "We will be just outside, Miss Granger. Just knock whenever you are finished."

Hermione stepped into the cell, closing the door behind her. The _clank_ of the iron door didn't seem to stir Malfoy's interest, as he didn't move from his spot on the floor, or even look up at her.

"May I ask you some questions, Malfoy?" she began, sitting on an iron chair that was bolted to the floor and holding out a vial of Veritaserum to him.

Eyeing the vial warily, Malfoy sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

Hermione scoffed. "Of course you have a choice. There is always a choice."

He looked up at her sharply, his bright silver eyes boring into her. "Is there?"

She stared back at him, refusing to let him intimidate her. He reached out to grab the vial, taking it roughly and downing the contents in a gulp.

She conjured her notebook and quill. "I'll begin whenever you're ready."

He rolled his eyes at her, "I suppose you should go ahead. I'm not going anywhere."

She cleared her throat. "Question number one, what is your full name and the name of your parents?"

"Seriously, Granger, that's your question?"

"It's to establish identity, Malfoy. Just answer it."

"Draco Lucius Malfoy. My father is Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and my mother is Narcissa Cassiopeia Black Malfoy."

"What was your role in the war?"

Malfoy stared at his feet and mumbled the words. "I was a Death Eater in the rank of the Dark- of Lord Voldemort."

"What was your primary assignment?"

"I was ordered to find a way to allow the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and kill Professor Albus Dumbledore."

"And did you succeed?"

"I was successful in allowing the Death Eaters into Hogwarts."

"But you were not successful in the murder of Professor Dumbledore?"

"No."

"Will you describe to me what happened when you failed in your task?"

Malfoy closed his eyes, seemingly trying to remember the sequence of events. "I did not possess the courage to cast the killing curse against Professor Dumbledore. You have to mean it, and I never wanted to kill him. I was only given the task because Lucius disappointed the Dark Lord in some way. Professor Snape cast the Avada instead. My mother was incarcerated in a cage, was deprived of food and water, and physically, mentally, and sexually violated by lower Death Eaters for days because of my failure. I had to sit and watch while it happened. That was my punishment."

Hermione's fingers tightened around her quill, her heart pained upon hearing what had happened to Mrs. Malfoy. "Were you given any further assignments by Lord Voldemort for the duration of your servancy?"

"No. I was never trusted with anything again. I was only expected to attend the revels and ensure that the Death Eaters had access to Hogwarts."

"Did you hurt or kill anyone during that time?"

"No. I could not stomach it after I witnessed Professor Dumbledore's murder. I did allow other Death Eaters to terrorize and harm Muggleborn and half-blood students at Hogwarts, however, which is worse."

"Are you still loyal to Lord Voldemort?"

"No."

"Were you ever loyal to Lord Voldemort?"

"No, I was not. I thought that I was, but," he paused. "I only wanted Father to be proud of me, and I believed at the time that taking the Dark Mark was an honor that meant that I was special. I did not realize until later that my assignment was actually further punishment because my father had failed. I was never expected to succeed, and my mother was going to be tortured regardless of the outcome."

"Do you still hold prejudice against those of Muggle descent?"

Malfoy glanced up at her, "No. I do not."

"What will you do if you are allowed to remain among Wizarding society?"

Malfoy looked confused. "I don't..I don't know. I never thought I would live this long."

Hermione nodded and stood, vanishing her notebook and quill to her bag and moving to the door. As she raised her hand to knock, notifying the Aurors that she was finished, Malfoy spoke.

"Granger, I hope you know, just in case we never see each other again." he paused. "I am sorry. For everything."

Hermione's hand rested on the doorframe, hesitating. Saying nothing, she cast a _Scourgify_ and a warming charm in his direction. As the door opened, Hermione stepped out quickly, shutting the door behind her. She and the group of Aurors moved toward the guard for the lowest level of cells

"Get him some decent food and water," she ordered the guard sharply. "He looks worse than an Azkaban prisoner."

"But, Miss Granger-" the guard began, quickly shutting up as Hermione fixed him with a look.

"It wasn't a question." She shouldered past him and walked quickly toward the elevator without a glance behind her.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are always welcome! xo


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